


Captured

by tiny_freakin_head



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blood, Dad Spy, First Aid, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know we just wrote it, Kidnapping, M/M, Mention of STIs, Multi, Murder, Relationships are there but not the focus, Sex mentioned, Snuggling, Violence, but not of anyone important, if it isn't accurate, is that worth tagging?, unusual for us, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 10:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_freakin_head/pseuds/tiny_freakin_head
Summary: Spy's enemies discover a weak spot; his son.*All translations are at the end





	Captured

It took a spectacularly long time for Spy’s enemies to discover his attachments. He’d always worried about them, about Eileen and his son, Jeremy, but for the longest time, they’d been safe. He’d stayed away from them for their own safety, as much as he longed to be with them.

When his enemies discovered that he had a son, it was no time at all before he was captured. Working as the Scout, Spy was almost surprised he’d been taken; between his own fighting skills and being surrounded by his team, Spy had thought he’d be safe. Apparently not.

There was no question of what Spy would do now. He was going to get Scout back, no matter the cost.

*

Scout was tied to a chair, bonds tight, digging into his skin and cutting off the circulation to his hands and feet. He’d been beaten; if his ribs weren’t cracked, they were at least badly bruised. It had been easiest to take him after beating the boy senseless. He hadn’t been expecting it. Two men stayed in the room with him, watching him.

He coughed, wishing he could wipe the blood off his mouth and nose. It hurt, but then, everything hurt. He glared at his captors as best he could with one eye swollen mostly shut. “Aren’t you gonna ask me anything?” he croaked, spitting a little blood. It couldn’t reach them, which was a pity, but at least he didn’t feel like he was going to drown.

“Why would we ask you shit?” one of the men laughed. “You’re not here because you know anything. You’re just bait.”

Oh god. They were going to feed him to a giant snake or something. Why had they bothered to beat him up first? Maybe it liked its food tenderized? “I-I know things!” Scout protested. _“Lots_ of things! Like, so many things, you guys. You don’t even know. And you’re going to waste all of this on a stupid snake?”

They just shook their heads. Spy was worth being captured. Not only did he have plenty of worthwhile information, but they had some revenge to take out of his skin—before they killed him and his son. “That _stupid snake_ ,” the other man agreed with what he thought was Scout’s assessment of Spy, “is more valuable than you. He’ll be here soon, looking for you.”

“Well, yeah. I’m amazing, but I’m not a giant snake.” Oh crap. The snake was _looking_ for him? Scout faced death on a daily basis and laughed it off, but there was dying in battle, and then there was _being eaten by a giant freaking snake!_

“Shut up,” the big man sighed. “Or you’ll lose your fingers, brat.” He took out a knife, cleaning his fingernails with it.

“I like my fingers,” Scout murmured, curling them as best he could—the ropes around his wrists were so tight, his hands weren’t responding very well. “So, what, we just sit here until the snake gets here? We can’t play cards or something?” He grinned. He’d always responded to danger and fear by talking—even more than usual.

“What did I say about shutting up?”

*

Spy was glad for the cloaking technology that he’d grown accustomed to, working at TFI. It allowed him to kill one of the guards, cloak as him, and go around the perimeter, murdering everyone in sight. He kept the bodies as hidden as he could, but there were a lot of men. Most of them did not fight back, didn’t have the time, but one of them managed a good swing at his face with his gun, not firing it, just using it as a blunt weapon, and he was bleeding from his eyebrow down into his eye.

It took him some time to get into the building, finally breaking in through the back door. He took out most of the guards with ease, unless there were two together. He sustained a few more minor injuries as he made his way to Scout, his mask torn under a knife, pulling away at the cheek. Thank god it’d missed his eye.

His enemies had put Scout in a small, windowless room deeper inside. He listened at the door for a while. Now that most of the guards were dead, he thought he could risk using his revolver. Opening the door, gun at the ready, he shot one of the guards through the head, the other he missed.

“Wha— _you!”_ The remaining guard drew his gun, aiming for Spy’s shoulder—a hopefully non-fatal shot that would still put him down for a while. They didn’t want him to die, not yet.

The shot just grazed him, but threw off his next shot, leaving a rip in his suit and blood dripping down from the wound. He flicked out his knife and threw it. Before the man could react, there was a knife buried in his throat. Spy pulled the knife free, wiped the blood off on the man’s jacket as he fell to his knees, and put it back in his pocket.

“S-Spy?” Scout managed, blinking in surprise. “Boy, am I glad to see you! You’d better hurry before the giant snake gets here.”

Spy took a shaky breath. It was good to see Scout was mostly unharmed. “Snake?” He raised an eyebrow, starting to untie the boy.

“Yeah. They were gonna feed me to it.” Scout’s words sounded mushy and indistinct, and he frowned. “Glad you got here first. How’d you know I was here?” He bit his already split lip to hold in whimper—as much as the tight ropes had hurt, it almost hurt _more_ when Spy took them off and blood rushed back into his extremities.

Spy chuckled. “The snake they were talking about was me, _petit_. They held you here so I would come for you.”

“Oh. Oh!” Scout frowned, wincing when that sent a fresh dribble of blood running from his eyebrow down his face. “Why?” He blinked. “There’s no giant snake?” He couldn’t help sounding a little disappointed.

“No.” Spy pulled out a handkerchief, holding it to the cut across Scout’s brow. “Keep pressure on that.” He avoided the awkward question. “Let’s leave. If there’s anyone left, they’ll have heard the gunshots.”

“Ok.” Scout stumbled to his feet, swallowing hard as he fought not to be sick. His feet felt impossibly far away, like he’d fall if he tripped on anything, and it made him dizzy to look down.

Scout didn’t look like he could stand much longer on his own, so Spy took his arm and looped it over his shoulders, taking most of Scout’s weight. “Come on,” he said, voice soft.

“Fuck, you _are_ scrawny. I feel like I can’t even lean on you without breaking you!” Scout laughed.

A final guard broke cover and fired two shots in rapid succession, trying to hit the man or his boy.

Miraculously, both missed. Spy practically dropped Scout, ducking close to the larger man, knife suddenly in hand. He gutted him, then finished him off quickly, slitting his throat. The man’s blood sprayed across his suit and he made a face, again wiping his knife before putting it away. He went back to Scout, looking regretful. “Are you alright?”

“Not eaten.” Scout tried to shrug, gasped in pain and doubled over halfway through the movement. He frowned at Spy, narrowing his non-swollen eye suspiciously. “Wait. You’re not even _my_ Spy. I don’t think. Is that just blood, or is your uniform red too?”

“I’m not your Spy,” he confirmed, taking Scout’s arm again. “My car is outside, not too far away. Think you can make it?”

“Ok, now I’m _really_ confused. I think I might’ve hit my head. Had someone hit it for me. Whatever. I’m just glad—yeah, let’s get the fuck outta this place.” Scout took a painful step, leaned more heavily on Spy’s arm. “Yeah. I can make it. Might need…a little help.” Admitting that he needed a _Spy’s_ help—and not even his Spy—hurt almost as much as his injuries. “Really hoping you’ve got a medigun in there.”

“No, but I can do a little first aid, before I get you back to your team.” Spy took most of Scout’s weight as they walked, feeling him falter as they got closer to his car. Stepping outside, he heard Scout’s painful intake of breath at the cold air. It made breathing in even more painful than before, surely. He opened the back door of his car, letting Scout in before popping the trunk to grab his first aid kit.

“Oh my god, it feels so good to sit down. On something soft. That I’m not tied to. Spy? Spy!” There was a note of panic in his voice when he realized Spy wasn’t beside him and he didn’t respond right away.

“I’m here,” Spy assured him, kneeling in front of Scout and opening the first aid kit. He swabbed everything with alcohol, stroking Scout’s hair briefly as he hissed and flinched away. The butterfly bandages worked well on the gash on Scout’s face. There wasn’t much he could do for the split lip, or the bloodied nose, beyond wiping him clean and making sure he wasn’t bleeding anymore. His wrists had marks from the ropes and Spy squeezed one of his hands. “You’ve got feeling in your hands?”

“Yeah. They hurt.” Scout did his best to grin. “Am I missing any teeth?” he asked in alarm.

Spy took Scout’s jaw carefully, opening his mouth and peering in. “I don’t think so. You’d feel it if you were, I think.” He grabbed two painkillers and a bottle of water from the back seat, handing both to Scout. “This should help with the pain. Do you want to lay down in the back while I drive? Or sit up front?”

“Phew. Don’t wanna look _too_ fucked up after this. A scar or two is fine, but a gap in my teeth?” Scout shook his head, winced, changed his mind. “Uh-uh. Nobody’ll go for that.” He took the bottle and pills with trembling hands, almost dropping both. “I’m feeling _everything_ right now, so it’s hard to tell,” he admitted. “Thanks.” He thought for a moment—it was a serious struggle. “I-I think I’d rather sit up front with you,” he decided, hating how high and shaky his voice sounded.

Spy nodded, sympathetically, helping Scout take the two pills and hold the water, then taking the bottle back from him. “There are always false teeth, _petit_ , though I know that’s not what you want to hear right now.” He helped him stand, getting Scout into the front seat. He closed the door, carefully, then grabbed the first aid kit again, turning the rear view mirror so he could see himself. He gave a sharp breath as he disinfected his own wounds.

Scout snorted, regretting it when some blood sprayed out his nose. “So I could keep tiny shit in them?”

Spy laughed, giving a snort of his own. “Hilarious.”

His shoulder would need stitches. Or a medigun. All he could do for it right now was bandage it tightly and try not to use that arm too much. The knife wound on his face called for more butterfly bandages. The gash above his eyebrow was too wide and shallow for them to make much difference. He just wiped up the blood and held another handkerchief to it until it seemed to have stopped. It was so tender it hurt even to touch the skin around it, never mind the injury itself. He took a slow breath. He was exhausted, but full of relief. Scout was safe.

He started the car, heading them back towards the bases. “You’re not hurt anywhere else, are you?” He should have asked earlier. It only just occurred to him now.

“Well, am I wrong?” Scout managed a feeble grin.

“… _non._ Did you hear my other question? Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Everywhere? Is that an option?” Scout shivered. “I just…let’s get outta here. I could really use a medigun, I think.”

“Of course.” It was dark outside and they could only see what was lit by the headlights. Spy was starting to fade, feeling a little dizzy. He was glad he didn’t have far to go, but he was tempted to pull over. If he gave in and did, it was likely neither of them would make it to a medigun. But which team to go to first? If he went to Scout’s, he might not make it back. If he went to his own, he’d have to convince Medic to take care of Scout.

He looked over at Scout, flinching every time they hit a bump. He felt a sharp spike of regret. “I’m so sorry you were caught up in this, _petit_.”

“In _what,_ exactly? Why were they after me? Why did _you_ come and…rescue me?” Scout’s hands were holding the sides of the car seat in a death grip, and his teeth were clenched. Talking helped take his mind off the pain and fear and confusion, but it also hurt. Well, everything hurt, all the time, but hurt _more._

Now, to be honest? To come clean after all this time? Or to lie, to soothe? “They wanted to bait me into coming after you. And they knew it would work. Because of my relationship with your mother.” A half lie.

Scout made a horrified, disgusted face. “Gross!” He reached out and punched Spy’s arm, immediately doubling over with pain from his badly injured ribs. _Worth it._ “This is all _your_ fault?!”

“Yes.” In that, at least, he wanted to be honest. “I’m sorry.”

Scout sighed. Spy sounded so…bare, he couldn’t be mad at him. “Well, you _did_ save me, too, so it cancels out. I guess. For now. Fuck.”

“Fuck,” he agreed. “I’ll take you to my base, my Medic will heal us and then I’ll get you back to your team.”

“Sounds good.” Scout nodded, neck tight and stiff. “Will your medigun even work on me?”

“It should.” _I hope._ Spy grew quiet for a while, until the lights of his base came into view in the distance. He could feel blood running down from his shoulder and he dropped his injured arm, letting his hand rest on his thigh, driving with one hand on the wheel. It was too painful to keep using the other arm.

Feeling the car swerve a little, Scout frowned over at Spy. “You’re really bleeding. You gonna make it?”

“Yes,” he said. “Not much farther. Not to mention, I doubt you know how to drive… well enough for me to let you try.”

“I can drive!” Scout protested. He laughed, a little wildly. “Ok, maybe not right _now,_ but I can drive. Just fine. I’ll show you. Just…not right now.”

Spy smirked, glad they were talking. It made it easier to focus. “If you think I’ll ever allow you to drive this car, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“Spy, this car is _full_ of blood. I think you should just get a new one. It’s gonna stink as soon as the sun hits it.”

“I will have to reupholster it,” he admitted. “But this is not the first time I’ve bled in this car. And I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

“Gross,” Scout said, voice fading a little. Now that he could see the lights of the bases, all his energy seemed to fade, all the fear and pain catching up with him at once. He could hardly keep his eyes open.

“ _Non_ , don’t fall asleep yet, _petit_ ,” Spy spoke a little louder, trying to keep Scout awake. “I can’t carry you.” He stopped at the door closest to the infirmary.

“I don’t even know how you can carry yourself,” Scout slurred.

“Oh, _mon dieu_ ,” Spy groaned, getting out of the car and going over to Scout’s side. He unbuckled him and turned him so his feet were on the ground. “We’re going to stand up now.”

“Are you telling me or yourself?”

Spy laughed softly. “Both of us. Come on,” he helped Scout up, but ended up taking more of his weight than he’d intended, nearly falling. He put Scout back in the seat carefully, making sure not to hit his head on the car as he did. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Scout scoffed. “Yeah, like I’m going anywhere.”

Spy walked as quickly as he could to the infirmary, sure he’d find both of the people he was looking for there. He knocked on the door in the back of the infirmary that led to Medic—and Heavy’s—room. “I need both of you, please.” His voice was weaker than he had expected.

 _“Was ist los?”_ Medic asked, irritable at being woken.*

Heavy sat up in alarm, climbing out of bed almost before he’d fully opened his eyes. Luckily he’d fallen asleep wearing a pair of boxers, so he could immediately open the door. “Spy!” He held out an arm for his friend, steadying him. “What happened?”

“I had a rough night,” he sighed. “Would you come with me, I need you to carry…Scout. The other Scout.” Heavy was smart enough that Spy was sure he knew exactly who Scout was to him.

Heavy raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “So I see. You wait here.” He bodily lifted Spy and set him on the infirmary exam table. “Doktor!” he called over his shoulder into the bedroom, only blushing a little. “Need you now!”

Spy stiffened for a moment as he was suddenly airborne, then relaxed as he was put down.

 _“Ach,_ nein!” Medic protested, but he emerged within moments. “Spy! What happened to you? Was it an ambush? Did you fall in a ravine? …again?”

“ _Sei nicht lächerlich_.” Spy scowled at him. “I’ll need you to heal the BLU Scout, as well.”**

Medic rolled his eyes. “And why would I do that?” He fired up his medigun and trained it on Spy. _“Lächerlich du selbst,”_ he muttered. ***

“Because I’m asking.” Spy reached out, snagging Medic’s hand, feeling far better already.

“Mm-hmm. You’re lucky Heavy likes you.” Medic slapped Spy’s hand away, not unkindly.

Heavy was, alarmingly, able to follow the trail of Spy’s bloody footprints to the car, where he found the BLU Scout slumped in the passenger seat. He knelt beside the car. “Shhh. Little Scout, can you hear me? Not going to hurt you. Bring you to Medic for healing.”

Scout nodded. He would’ve accepted help from the giant snake at this point.

Spy watched anxiously as Heavy carried in a limp and almost unresponsive Scout. He hopped off the table, letting Heavy put Scout down and taking his son’s hand.

“You’re not finished!” Medic protested, shaking his head at Spy. “Ach, at this point you probably could’ve just let him die.”

Frowning at his lover with a sharp, pointed look at Spy, Heavy gently set the Scout down in Spy’s place. There was a fair bit of blood on the table, but most of Spy’s wounds seemed to have closed now.

Spy watched as Medic reluctantly trained the medigun on Scout, relief flooding him for a moment, until he realized that it wasn’t working. “Won’t it work on him?” Spy groaned.

Medic gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Apparently…not?”

Spy made a frustrated sound. “Then this might require you to be an actual doctor.”

“О Боже,” Heavy muttered under his breath.****

Medic puffed out his chest like a prize fighting cock. “I _am_ an actual doctor! Do you see my medical license?” He pointed at the wall, forgetting for a moment that only a picture of Archimedes currently hung there. He allowed his arm to drop to his side, deflating a little, but his eyes were still flashing.

“Yes, it’s very official.” Spy had no sense of humour about it tonight. Any other night he would have tread more carefully around Medic’s ego, would have teased him more gently. Tonight he was tired, he still hurt, and he was worried.

“Of _course_ he’s a real doctor!” Scout protested, frowning blearily at both of them. “Told you the medigun wouldn’t work on me.” He couldn’t remember if he’d said it, if someone else had said it, or if he’d only thought it.

Heavy gave a deep sigh of relief. He might let the Scout get ‘lucky’ on the battlefield a few times for that. Having to smooth Medic’s feathers would have been a pain, but he suspected Scout’s words might have done the trick.

Medic laughed, delighted. “There, you see? _He_ knows. I like him.” He sighed dramatically. “Oh, very well, I’ll do this the _old-fashioned_ way. Take off his clothes while I prepare.” He said the last word with distaste. “Or…we could simply take him back to his base? Or finish him off and let their respawn system take care of him? Much less inconvenient.”

Spy knew that made the most sense, but as often as he had to kill the boy when they were working, doing it now seemed very different. He felt protective. Instead of arguing, or explaining any of this, he merely said, “Please,” his voice quiet and serious. He began to undress Scout, helping him sit up enough that he could take his shirt off. He winced when he saw the dark bruises spread over his ribs. He hadn’t seen the full extent of the damage Scout had sustained.

“Oh, very well,” Medic agreed after a moment of calculated consideration. He was genuinely worried for Spy—it wasn’t like his teammate to ask for anything, never mind so plainly. Clearly, this meant a lot to him. He turned and began gathering gauze, disinfectant, and a needle and thread for stitches. _Ugh._ He’d thought he was past the need for ever using such crude methods again. Of course it would be _Spy_ who mucked everything up for him.

Scout bit his lip deeply, but he still wasn’t able to hold back all his whimpers as Spy peeled off cloth that was stuck to blood and made his injured bones grate together. He bit his hand near the end, when he had to extend his arms enough for his shirt to come off, but his scream was still audible.

Medic arched an eyebrow primly. “You could have simply cut his clothing off, you know, and spared him a bit of pain. That’s just my _medical_ advice.”

“дети,” Heavy muttered. He knew Spy could understand him, so he softened it with a smile. Shaking his head, he found a stool—an extra-large one Medic kept around just for him—and settled in a corner to wait, ready to intervene if he needed to. *****

Spy gave Medic a sharp look. “I’m not the Medic here. If you want me to do something, give me clear instructions.” He was essentially offering himself up as a nurse, as much as he hated to take what amounted to orders, especially from _Medic_ , he wanted to be involved. “Sorry, _petit_ ,” he sighed, grabbing what he hoped was the correct pair of scissors and beginning to cut through his pants. He left him his underwear, carefully cutting around that. He bent, wincing a little as he did, untying the boy’s shoes. It suddenly reminded him of one of the last times he’d seen Jeremy as a child, a surprisingly clear image of Eileen kneeling to untie their child’s shoes.

Medic returned the look, with interest. _“Dummkopf,”_ he said, rather fondly. There was something strange going on between his Spy and the enemy Scout, but he couldn’t figure it out.

Doing his best to keep still and quiet, Scout just nodded and allowed himself to be moved and undressed. Part of him wanted to cling to Spy, just to have someone to hold onto while he hurt, but he’d sooner hug Heavy or even _Medic_ than the damn Spy. Even—maybe especially—after how weird he’d acted today.

After making sure that Scout’s hand was unhurt, Spy offered his own hand to Scout to hold, standing next to him, watching Medic like a hawk. He did his best to ignore Heavy. He knew he was transparent to his friend and he didn’t want to see his expression.

Scout latched onto Spy’s hand, face pale and drawn.

Tutting to himself the whole time, Medic cleaned, stitched, and dressed Scout’s wounds as best he could. He _was_ a little out of practice using conventional medicine, and the enemy Scout did seem like an excellent practice subject. The end result was…messy, but adequate, he decided. “I still think this is the least merciful option you could’ve chosen,” he sniffed. He’d considered saying it in German, but then Heavy wouldn’t have understood. And neither would Scout, and he tried not to miss opportunities of casual sadism.

“Shut up,” Spy said, but with very little venom. “Does he need to sleep here? Do you need to watch him?”

“He doesn’t _need_ anything but his own team’s medigun.” Purposefully missing the point, Medic rolled his eyes—he hated unnecessary drama. “But no, he should be fine to move now. His ribs will still hurt, but I’ve stopped the worst of the bleeding. If he’s up for it, he should have a bit of food and plenty to drink. I’d suggest something sweet—like _apple juice_ , not Bonk!”

“Fine. Thank you,” he said, grudgingly. He helped Scout up off the table, wishing more and more he’d let Medic finish healing himself, but too proud to ask for it now. He guided the unsteady young man to his smoking room, revealing the secret little room within where he slept, and sat Scout down on the bed.

Scout allowed himself to be led, happy to get away from the enemy Medic. He was in too much pain and distress to react with more than mild interest when Spy revealed his secret room, even though it would normally have amazed him. Lying down on something that wasn’t made of metal or moving felt amazing, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

Spy tucked Scout in carefully, sitting next to him and stroking some of his hair off his forehead. He looked pale, but much better than he had. Tomorrow he’d get the boy back to his base. For now, he’d get him water and a bit of food in case he woke up in the night. Spy made a foray out to the kitchen, exhausted and still covered in blood, but feeling a little more optimistic.

“Holy Dooley, Spy, what happened to you?” Sniper, as the first to recover his ability to walk after sex, had offered to go to the kitchen to get snacks for himself and Engineer. “We were getting worried about you, mate. You just disappeared after dinner, and now…” His concerned eyes took in Spy’s extremely battered appearance.

Spy groaned. As glad as he was to see Sniper, he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to explain this night to anyone besides Heavy and Medic. “It’s a long story,” he sighed, but stepped into Sniper for a brief—and very gentle—hug. “Suffice it to say, it was a rescue mission that went poorly for everyone involved.”

“Rescue mission? Who needed rescuing? Why’d you just go off without telling anyone?” Sniper shook his head. “No wonder you look like you lost a fight with a wood chipper.”

“The Scout. The _other_ Scout,” Spy said, before Sniper started to worry. “I don’t look _that_ bad. Do I?” He looked down at himself with a little more concern. His suit was ripped in several places, his mask still torn and dangling, revealing a bit more of his face than he liked, and there was still blood everywhere. He was mostly healed, just still sore and aching.

“It’s…pretty bad, mate.” Sniper frowned, puzzled. “Why did you up and rescue the—oh my god. It’s true, isn’t it?”

Spy gave another groan. “Whatever you’re thinking, no, it’s all a lie.” He brushed past Sniper and grabbed a glass to fill with water, so thirsty after his long night. “At least someone had a good night,” he remarked, looking Sniper over. Even if the hickeys didn’t give him away, he’d had that relaxed flush that he usually had after sex.

“Mm-hmm. What’re you doing, mate?” Sniper blushed, but refused to let Spy throw him off topic.

“Getting something to eat and drink, same as you.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you bloody well know it.” Sniper shook his head, voice softer. “You could’ve been killed tonight, and none of us would ever have known what happened to you. You could’ve taken someone with you, at least.”’

“It wasn’t anyone else’s job. Or their fault.” Spy grimaced. “We’re both alive, and as far as I could tell, none of them are. That’s what matters.”

“Mm-hmm. Where is he?”

Spy frowned at him. This was starting to become an interrogation. “Here. In my room.”

Sniper could tell that he was moments away from making Spy flee, but he couldn’t hold back a hiss, a sharp inhalation. He stepped closer and loosely grabbed Spy’s shoulder, lowering his voice. _“Here?_ What’re you thinking? If anyone finds out…”

Spy flinched out from beneath Sniper’s hand, taking a step back. “ _No one_ will find out,” he hissed back. “Because I can trust the people who know, can’t I? He’ll be gone tomorrow.” Spy didn’t want to admit that he desperately didn’t want Scout to go. He could, of course, take the nearly unconscious boy back to his base now, leave him there for his teammates to find, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to protect Scout, to make sure he was okay. To assure himself, really, that he’d saved him; that Jeremy was alright.

“Of course you can,” Sniper agreed, a little hurt. “But why not take him back now? It’s only a fluke that I ran into you—you should probably change—but the longer he’s here, the more likely he is to get caught.”

Spy made a pained face, knowing that he’d hurt Sniper’s feelings, and wanting, desperately, to explain himself properly. “I just can’t, I can’t.” He wrapped his arms around his own thin frame. “I—” he made a frustrated sound. “I need to see him safe.”

“You don’t think he’ll be safe with his team?” Sniper asked, very gently. “You saved him. You protected him,” he reassured his lover.

“Maybe I wanted to bond with my son,” Spy gritted out. “Is that so bad? He’ll be gone tomorrow,” he repeated.

“Bond with—” Sniper bit his lip hard, trying his utmost to hide his grin at that admission.

“Yeah! We’re bonding! Wait, what?”

“Oh _mon dieu_ , why are you out of bed?” Spy snapped. “You’re in the enemy base, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

Sniper threw up his hands in mock-surrender. “Clearly you two are…dealing with…things.” He nodded at Spy, then, awkwardly, at the enemy Scout. He couldn’t _wait_ to tell Engineer about this development—even though he suspected Spy knew exactly what he was off to do.

“I’m sorry!” Scout’s voice quavered and his lower lip jutted out a little. “You were just gone a long time… What were you saying about bonding?”

Scout’s emotional reaction immediately caused Spy to regret his tone. Grabbing a leftover sandwich from the fridge—he would apologize to Heavy later—and another glass of water, he ushered Scout back to his room. “Nothing, _petit_. You need to eat something, once we get you back in bed.”

Scout nodded. “I know it was stupid, I just…” He laughed, rather feebly. “I don’t think my brain is working quite right.”

“I know; you’ve been through a lot tonight.” Spy opened his door and got them inside, taking a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind them. They were safe, now, as safe as they could be here. He gave Scout the water and sandwich, sitting with him. He was tempted to pull off his mask, to put on a new one, to redress himself in less bloody clothes. That would have to wait until Scout was asleep.

The water hurt to swallow, though Scout wasn’t sure why—maybe he’d been screaming or something? His stomach rebelled a little, and for a moment he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep it down. He sat still and quiet for a moment until he was sure he wasn’t going to be sick, then he tried a cautious bite of the sandwich. It made him feel quite a bit better, but he didn’t think he could eat any more. “Thanks.”

Spy let him set the food aside, understanding that he couldn’t eat anymore. “You’re welcome,” he said, voice soft. “You should sleep. I’ll get you back to your base when you wake up.”

Scout nodded, burrowing sleepily under the blankets. Within minutes he was asleep.

Spy watched him sleep for a moment, before getting himself redressed and slightly less bloody, with a new and whole mask. He was exhausted, but he wasn’t sure he should sleep. What if Scout needed him, in the night? Still, he was stifling a yawn as he sat on the edge of his bed. He drifted off sitting up against the headboard, watching Scout sleep.

***

“Hey, mate. Sorry I took so long.”

Engineer had been dozing off, but smiled when he heard Sniper’s voice. “Hey darlin’,” he drawled, opening his arms to bring Sniper in for a snuggle. “…didn’t you go to get food for us?”

“Aw, piss!” Sniper laughed, shaking his head at himself and grinning sheepishly. “Sorry. I got a bit…distracted. Want me to go back?” he asked, before allowing himself to be pulled down.

“Nah, you’re here now.” Engineer didn’t want to fall asleep completely before Sniper came back a second time. “What was so distracting, hm?”

“Ah…” Sniper stretched out beside Engineer on his side, head propped up on his elbow. “I ran into Spy…” He didn’t mean to draw it out and tease Engineer, but the whole thing had been so bizarre, he was still working through it himself.

“Oh, he was out and about? Where had he been hiding?” Engineer and Sniper had both noticed the man’s rather sudden disappearance with a little worry. Spy often took off on his own and disappeared with some frequency, but lately he’d been getting better at warning them, or at least not disappearing through meals any more.

“He…was with the enemy Scout. Well, not _with_ him. I think he…rescued him, or something?” Sniper laughed. “He didn’t exactly lay it all out for me.”

“He brought the enemy Scout _here_?” Engineer suddenly felt much more awake. “…you think the rumour’s true?”

“He confirmed it, actually.” Sniper found himself blushing, though he wasn’t sure why. He knew Spy had slept with women, but for some reason it was still strange to know a _specific_ woman he’d slept with. Had a son with, however unintentionally. At least, he assumed it had been unintentional.

Engineer shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe—and he rescued him from something? Do you think the kid knows?” It was just as odd to him to imagine Spy with a woman, having a son. It was just strange. He wondered how Spy felt about it—he never spoke about it, certainly.

Sniper shrugged. “Seems like he must, at this point. Though, knowing Spy, he’ll think of some way out of letting the kid know.” He laughed. “He looked pretty rough; I don’t think we can tease him _too_ much about this one.”

“Rough?” Engineer asked. “He’s alright, though?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. He went to Medic, luckily, instead of hiding like a bloody cat or something. Says he’s going to take the Scout back in the morning.”

“Ridiculous man. Can’t believe he didn’t tell us.”

Sniper snorted. “Really?”

“…well, a little!” Engineer couldn’t help but laugh too. “It’s not like it’s a big secret!”

“Mate, he doles out _tiny_ secrets like they’re…rations on a lifeboat!”

“Everyone kinda… knows about this one, though.”

“I mean, we all…strongly suspected? It’s not like he’s ever even hinted at it, himself. And that’s never stopped him from acting like every tidbit of information he gives out cuts his life a few months shorter.”

Engineer snorted with laughter. “True. So, how are we gonna play this? Pretend everything’s normal, or tease him mercilessly?”

“I…haven’t quite decided. Maybe see how he’s doing in the morning.” Sniper shook his head. “I’m not sure how he’s planning on getting the kid back without being killed.”

“I’m sure he’s got something planned.”

“He always does…even when he doesn’t, if that makes sense. Little pest.” Yawning, Sniper rolled closer to Engineer, resting his head on his teammate’s shoulder. “Enough about him, though.”

“Mmm,” Engineer groaned, wrapping his arm around Sniper’s shoulders fondly.

***

“Dinner’s been…awful quiet tonight, don’t you think?” Demo asked Engineer.

“That’s cause we’re missing someone.” Engineer nodded towards Scout’s usual spot. “Has anyone seen him since battle?”

Though Scout was loud and they often knew exactly where he was, if he’d spent the day outside it was completely possible that no one had seen him. But he usually showed up for meals. And snacks. And to drink Bonk! in the kitchen and talk off the ears of anyone who happened to be about.

After everyone confirmed they hadn’t seen him since then, Demo shook his head. “It’s not like him to miss a meal, or go unnoticed for half an hour. I’m going to check his rooms. Maybe he’s just not feeling well?” Getting sick was rare here, but it did happen, and for some reason respawn didn’t usually seem to affect it.

“Usually if one of us is sick, most of us get it. I’ll help you look.” Engineer frowned. That was one of the problems with living so close together. “If he is sick, tell him to stay put.”

“I will,” Demo agreed. “We’ll meet back here? I’ll check Sniper’s camper, too.” He laughed. “The two of them might’ve just gotten, ah, so _busy_ they forgot to come in for food.” He hoped that was the case—though he also didn’t fancy walking in on them if they were still ‘busy.’ He’d just knock first. Loudly. Sniper missing meals wasn’t as unusual as Scout missing a meal.

Engineer checked a few of Scout’s rooms. He’d annexed any rooms that were left empty –Spy’s, Sniper’s, Engineer’s, Medic’s, and Heavy’s. They all had their own sleeping arrangements. He was in none of his rooms. He shook his head. The boy must be out with Sniper. Demo was probably right.

Demo knocked on Sniper’s door, good and hard so they’d be able to hear him.

Sniper answered, curiously. He didn’t get a lot of visitors besides Scout, and Scout never bothered to knock. “Hey, mate, what’s brought you out here? Soldier cooking again?”

Demo laughed, leaning around to see past Sniper. “No, nothing like that. Do you have Scout in there with you?”

“Nah, haven’t seen him since battle. Thought maybe he’d gone for a run?”

“Ah, maybe you’re right, I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks, and sorry to bother you.” Demo was getting increasingly worried, but he tried to convince himself that Sniper was right. There wasn’t an official track laid out on the base, but over the years Scout had run a patch around the buildings. It usually didn’t take him very long to make one lap, so Demo stood in one spot and waited. Still no Scout. Grumbling to himself about how the boy would owe him when he found him, Demo set off around the perimeter. Not only would he follow Scout’s usual path, he’d also get a good look around in case Scout was in trouble. Really, he wanted to put his feet up with a nice bottle of whiskey, not go tromping around while it got steadily darker, but he couldn’t shake his feeling that something was wrong.

He found nothing but a strange pair of tire tracks and a bunch of boot prints that Demo didn’t recognize.

Cursing under his breath, Demo hurried back to the mess hall to meet Engineer.

Engineer was, as he’d suspected, still there, washing the mess hall table. He saw Demo’s expression and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

A little out of breath, Demo leaned on his knees and shook his head. “Please tell me he was in one of his rooms.”

“Nope. Not with Sniper?”

Demo shook his head. “I found something strange, though.” He laughed. “Why don’t we drive out to it, though? I’ve had all the running around I care to for one day.”

“Alright.” Engineer left his job half done and they headed to the side of the base where Engineer parked his truck. They drove out to where Demo had seen the tracks and they both stood over them. Engineer grimaced. “Think it was BLU?”

“I don’t know. There just aren’t that many vehicles in or out of this place, and I don’t recognize the tire tracks. Or the footprints. On the other hand, who else could it’ve been? And why?” He laughed, faintly. “Why would someone want more than one Scout? Some days, I could do with _fewer_ of him.”

“Yeah… Think we should mention this to the Administrator?”

“I do and I don’t, you ken? On one hand, this does seem like something she should know. On the other…I think she’s the only person alive who might give my mum a run for her money.” Demo shrugged. “Still, I don’t see what else we _can_ do. Storming over there after hours won’t go well, that’s certain.” He sighed. “Maybe…we ought to wait till morning before we do anything rash?”

Engineer didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Hopefully the idiot’ll get himself home safe.”

***

Scout couldn’t remember ever waking up in this much pain, not even the morning after he’d tried to follow his brothers down a bike trail that was too steep for a five-year-old. He groaned and sat up, feeling a moment of fear when he didn’t remember where he was or why he hurt. Breathing a little too fast, he looked around and saw the enemy Spy sitting next to him. It all came rushing back, and his breathing slowed. The Spy was leaning against the headboard, clearly fast asleep. His chin had drooped almost to his chest, and Scout noticed that he’d changed out of his bloody, torn clothes. He was looking forward to doing the same thing, _and_ getting a really good dose of the medigun. He wasn’t sure why the Spy had kept him here over night…but it was almost worth it to see a Spy actually asleep. Scout had _never_ seen a sleeping Spy before, unlike every other class. You couldn’t turn around without tripping over Sniper sleeping in some awkward place that should have been too tiny to fit his legs.

As Scout stirred, Spy woke. He ached a little still, but not enough to really complain about it. He saw Scout, already awake and sighed. “Let’s get you back to your team.”

Scout nodded, turning to give Spy a thoughtful look. “Hey. I can’t remember if I said this yesterday or not—thanks. You didn’t have any reason to come and get me, but you did anyway, even though I’m not even on your team.” He scoffs. “Shows how much _my_ Spy sucks. Bet he didn’t even notice I was gone.”

“I’m hoping they haven’t started a rescue party quite yet,” Spy admitted. “Stay here a moment, I’ll get you some clothes.” He stood with a groan, heading to his own Scout’s room. At least a pair of pants and an undershirt wouldn’t be the wrong colour for his team and weren’t going to get him shot. And thankfully his own Scout was already up and gone to breakfast. He headed back and put the clothes down on the bed beside his son, turning to give the boy some privacy.

Scout gave Spy a look of disbelief. “Really?” He reluctantly took the clothes, holding them at arm’s length. He sniffed them, making a face. “Ugh. These freakin’ stink.” He laughed. “Stealing from your own team, though, that’s pretty funny.”

“I am a spy, after all,” he reminded him. “Just put them on, you can change as soon as you’re back at your own base.”

“Yeah, _Spy_ , not _Thief.”_ Laughing to himself, he pulled on his enemy’s clothes. “Probably gonna get crabs or something, wearing these,” he grimaced.

“Somehow I doubt it.” He rolled his eyes. “Come on.” Everyone should be at breakfast, Spy thought, so this was a good time to sneak Scout away. He headed back towards the infirmary, where he’d parked his car, and got Scout into the passenger seat. “Sorry about the blood,” he grimaced. He really was going to need to reupholster.

“Yeah, me too.” Scout rolled his eyes, trying not to show how much getting into the car hurt. At least he didn’t have to _walk_ back to his base. “Why _did_ you come for me? Why’re you doing…all of this? For me. Because you’re you.”

“I-” Spy sighed. “Your mother would never forgive me if I let you get hurt.” It wasn’t a lie, at least.

Scout scowled and turned to look out the window.

Spy gave the runner some space as they drove back, saying nothing to him. Though he hadn’t seen Scout’s mother in some time, Scout seemed to think they were still together. Which… Spy would like to think was true, but he knew better than to hold out any hope. He’d abandoned them. For good reason, maybe, but it was still an abandonment. Scout had grown up without a father thanks to his choices. It would be understandable, to never forgive that.

Scout sighed, rolling his eyes again. “Yeah, well…thanks. For whatever gross reason.”

“You’re welcome.” The RED base was visible in the distance and Spy felt himself tense. Hopefully everyone would be busy and he could get Scout right to the door without getting blown up.

Noticing Spy tense out of the corner of his eye, Scout looked forwards again. “Is that…Engineer’s truck?”

“…maybe I should let you out here,” Spy said. The truck was full, there were men in the back.

“Yeah, maybe.” Squinting at the truck, Scout jumped out and thumped the top of Spy’s car with one fist—wincing after he did it. “Yeah, you should definitely get out of here! Drive, drive!”

Spy tried not to look back as he turned quickly away and drove off. Scout was safe now, with his own team. He’d get the medigun and he’d be fine. They’d see each other in battle on Monday.

**Author's Note:**

> *Was ist los? – What’s happening?  
> **Sei nicht lächerlich – Don’t be ridiculous  
> ***Lächerlich du selbst - Ridiculous yourself  
> ****О Боже – Oh God  
> *****дети – Babies
> 
> Hopefully the Russian is correct! I didn’t bother translating some of the French, like petit, or non, since those are pretty well known. Also Dummkopf, since that’s one of Medic’s voice lines and fairly obvious.


End file.
